Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Snazzy, creepy, cutesy

I've finally learned how to put a background on my blog! It'll take some time to fashion one that's uniquely me, but in the meantime I'm liking this one a lot. Thanks, Dave for sharing. I asked someone a while back, but I guess it was some big secret. Oh well, I guess he didn't know Harry Wong.

Speaking of Harry Wong, I'm going to see him live real soon! (insert crazy screaming and jumping up and down here)
I hope I don't go all Sanjaya on Wong. Yep, that would be a little bit awkward and embarrassing. **************
Sommer says, while driving into Kobler, "Tontonville!" LOL, almost but not quite baby.

Monday, June 22, 2009

I am pteromechanophobia

Something to know about me- I am fear of flying. No, I said it right. I am not just afraid to fly, a condition which has five distinct phobia categories to choose from: aerophobia, aviatophobia, aviophobia, pteromechanophobia and OMG-what-am-I-doing-40,000feetintheairophia. I am the epitome of aviatophobia. So, it's no wonder that weeks into this upcoming intercontinental flight I've already had three or four episodes of sheer terror.

Like last week, Wayne and I were in the toilet paper aisle at Happy Market, busily chatting away. The radio was playing over the store PA system and I'd hardly even noticed it because we were talking about somethingorother. Then just as we turned the corner I heard "Continental Airlines 777, Flight 61 made an emergency landing after... ".

At the check out counter and on the way home. Yes, twice.
Boni: The what? The pilot what?
Wayne: He had a heart attack.
Boni: And died?
Wayne: Yes, but the plane landed safely and no one was injured.
Boni: And so, who flew the plane?
Wayne: The co-pilot. (duh)

Well, he didn't actually say "duh" because he loves me, but I know he wanted to.

Yesterday, out of the blue.
Boni: How many pilots are there in planes?
Wayne: Two. And a flight engineer.
Boni: And, if..
Wayne: So, if something happens to the pilot the co-pilot flies the plane.
Boni: And, if both pilots have heart attacks?

And before that, while I was getting dressed for work, rolling my hair at 6:00 am, feeling okay for the day, I hear that an Air France flight went "missing". That's it, bad hair day.

Then today, for no apparent reason, I check my flight schedule. Crap! I leave a day earlier than I thought. Thump, thump, thump, there it is, the incessant sound of my heart pumping blood to my already overparanoid brain. A day earlier. I'm already scared, so what do you think I do? I swear, it's the inanest thing! I google "most recent flight accidents" as if it will magically erase the visions I am having of plunging into the depths of the ocean. I don't know why I do these things. Like why do I insist on keeping the window shade up the entire flight? As if my personally acknowledging the fact that we are flying over polar ice caps will prevent the airplane from crashing into them. And, why do I not watch movies to distract me, but instead choose to listen carefully to every sound as if I could single-handedly save us by identifying that mysterious click-clack coming from the rear of the cabin, near the left engine. I only read on planes so that my mind will have to create images and piece together scripts, so it works overtime on fantasy instead of the terrible reality of being where no birds can even fly.

When I taught 3rd grade, my favorite subject was Air & Flight because as a teacher, we all know "knowledge is power" and I was going to teach my students all about how planes fly and it was going to be really cool and also possibly help me conquer my own fears. Yeah, that was the plan. It was great fun. We labeled our paper mache planes and did lengthy presentations on what parts did what jobs. We learned all about the layers of the atmosphere and how planes flew in them; horizontal and vertical stabilizers and ailerons; wind lift and much more. We took a trip to the airport and got to sit in the planes, talked to pilots and learned neat trivia like how much safer it is to fly than to drive and how turbulence was just like driving down a bumpy cascao (coral paved) road. We even got to do some neat systematic desensitization exercises to relieve tension in flight and I learned how to relinquish control to the pilot and not call attention to every minor crack in the airplane plexi-glass window that separated us from the stratosphere a mere two inches. Okay, so that wasn't in the curriculum map, but it was really important!

I've since realized that no amount of information, desensitization or rationalization will ever completely erase this fear. I'ts not like the more I fly, the better it gets because the more I fly the more I wonder if this is the flight? Ugh. Like now, my hands are already sweaty and I'm already frustrated that maybe the GPS thingamajiggy will be broken and I won't be able to obsessively watch the airplane inch closer to it's final destination. And, like now, I've built up such a panic that I've lost the point of this post. Ah, yes. It was to leave tangible proof, in case my plane makes a "water landing" (yeah right) and I don't, that aerophobia is no laughing matter. Unless of course you're laughing at me, because that would be appropriate.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Cruisin on a Father's Day

It's your day, dad!

My Honey
Everyone told me what a great man you are, your sisters told me what a great dad you are, and I believed them of course, but it wasn't until I'd had the chance to watch your heart at work that I realized you are a wonderful, kind hearted, giving, untiring dad who rarely seeks his own needs out and does everything in his power to put his children first.

I watched you put our newborn puppies to Poca's breast when she was too afraid to care for them and my heart swelled with love at your tenderness. It was a small gesture, but it showed me your capacity to love. You do that with our children everyday. You try to show them how to conduct themselves, give them tools for life, shower them with affection and love and it makes me love you even more, if that's possible. Thank you Wayne, for loving our children, all of them and for changing my world.

I have to admit, I never thought there would be a man who could compare to my father. I watched my dad love all his children and his brother's and sister's children unconditionally. Until you, I never thought any other man could occupy such a big part of my heart. Now, I know why my father loves you so much. Not just because I do, but because he knows we're all in good, strong, faithful, loving hands.

My dad
He didn't tell me how to live;
he lived, and let me watch him do it.

Daddy, you are my best friend. I don't know why we went through everything we did, so much heart ache, so many adjustments, it seemed that life was determined to throw it's curve balls at us, but one thing remained solid, I had you and you had me. And, everyday growing up, I knew I could do anything I put my mind to because whether or not anyone believed in me, you were always in my corner. When I made poor choices you did not condemn me. When I made leaps in life, you always cheered me on. I love you. I know I tell you all the time, but I love you. I hope that I have brought you as much joy as you have given me. Happy father's day!

Friday, June 19, 2009

This is my blog

Lately I've been feeling unmotivated to blog. I had a chat conversation months ago with Mona, and we talked about how difficult it was for a friend of hers to be candid after a certain incident in her life. I didn't really feel the same way at the time, I felt it was pretty easy to write freely, not worrying about how others would take it, knowing what I wrote were my feelings and that what others perceived could only affect me if I let it.

Lately though, I've worried a lot about what to say, what to share and how to say it. I haven't closed this blog to invitation only because it has always been a safe haven. I know for sure, there are people who come by and scoff or just come by to check up and that is starting to bother me. Why? I'm not entirely sure, but maybe because for the first time in my life I'm really happy and I don't want that tainted. Tainted how? I don't know entirely, but it's a weird feeling I just get.

I find myself censoring my post, deleting it, rewriting it, forgetting about it, all because I'm afraid. Gee, that's not been me for a long time. I know there are shreds of fear that come from places in my past that don't belong here anymore, but they emerge every once in a while and disturb the peace. They start to make me feel like I'm not good, smart, pretty or valuable enough. It's an old habit that comes from years of neglect and emotional abuse, there I said it. It doesn't belong anywhere...not anymore.

So, I thought I'd write without editing today, so that I start the process again without hesitation and without the threat of things that exist merely in my mind. I force myself to write it out until it's bled all out of me, until I can no longer feel the hovering of eyes logged on to catch a glimmer of something to mock. It feels nice, comfortable, safe. Whew. A relief.
Sommer turned 5 yesterday. She is incredible, has this amazing vocabulary and knack for saying the funniest things. Before I forget, here are some of the most recent Sommisms.

At the video store
Sommer: Miss, do you have Cinderella?
Saleslady: No, I'm sorry that's out.
Sommer: (with hand on forehead) No Cinderella? I need to go to the nuthouse!

When Poca had puppies under my car last week:
Sommer: Look Wayne, look! Poca is giving birthmark! I've never seen a dog give birthmark!

Thursday, June 18, 2009

YESSSS! I'm finally 5!

Sommer Kalani Reyes
You make my heart soar!
Happy Birthday my sweetie pie, fabulous five little girly girl!!